Homage and Honour (18 page)

The stories
within the volume had not been much read, that is, except for one.
Those pages had a well-thumbed look to them.

His interest
piqued, Charles opened the book at the start of the darker-edged
sheets.

It was a story
of a girl who escaped from the South to the Lands of the Lind where
she found happiness with her long-lost family. The story told of
her first years as a slave then her escape from the advances of a
cruel master. She was taken north by a deserter from the Murdochian
army. In the North she met up with her long-lost sister. When she
was grown up she married her rescuer.

Charles sat
back; there were similarities here, similarities between Tara
Sullivan’s story and the fable spun by his mother.

There were some
cryptic annotations written in the margins. Charles recognised the
handwriting; they were those of Murdoch’s first king. He became
even more intrigued and excited until he realised with exasperation
that the annotations were written in a code.

Impasse.

He then noticed
another very faint line of letters and numbers on the top right
hand corner of the last page of the story;
HAM A3 S3
L7-4.

Charles sat
back and thought hard. He felt sure that this was the key to
Elliot’s personal code. The king’s diaries, which no-one had been
able to read, were written in a mixture of letters and numbers such
as this. Nobody had ever been able to decipher it although many
learned men had tried. Charles himself had never taken much
interest in it but now he wanted to know. In fact, it was
imperative that he find the key and read the contents.

He knew of one
type of code that was virtually unbreakable unless one had the key.
It was a simple concept. Unless the person doing the encoding and
the person doing the decoding had, in their possession, the same
edition of the relevant book as a reference, deciphering the code
would be impossible. Charles concluded that this code must be such
a type. That realisation got him started. He had spent many
candlemarks over the last days looking in the oldest records and
books in the library. Surely Elliot hadn’t possessed that many
books?

Looking up the
first pages of the library register he located the books
incorporated into the library on the king’s death. There were not
many. He scanned the list. There, there it was, ‘Hamlet’ by William
Shakespeare. Was the HAM part of the faint writing a shortened form
of Hamlet? With eager fingers he turned to Act III, then to Scene 3
and there it was, Act 3, Scene 3, Line 7.

The word was
hourly … the fourth letter in …
R
!

He had it! He
was sure of it.

He looked at
the next line of letters and numbers.

The letter
U
.

Then the
next.

He could read
the message Elliot the First had left;
‘Ruth. This is my sister
Ruth.’

Ruth
had
escaped into the North; the story was about her. Elliot had known
of it and had chosen to do nothing. Charles decided that, when he
had the time, he would tackle the king’s diaries and try to find
out.

Repressing his
excitement, for the night was still young, he returned to the Court
Accounting Records, dry documents all. Pure ennui had driven
Charles from them towards something lighter and to the marvellous
disclosure, but now he returned.

He struck gold
for the second time that day.

In AL16 he
found an entry that he sensed was important. It was a record of the
costs of a pendant made at the young king’s behest, it to be an
exact replica of the pendant that, even now, rested in the palace
strongroom. The Accountant had described it and said that the
replica was half the size of the original. The young King Elliot
had paid for its making from his own personal account. The cost of
the jewel was large. Charles got to thinking. He knew that this
replica was no longer at Fort. What if it had been a gift from the
king to his twin sister, to mark the occasion of a marriage that
never did take place? The splodgy name in the betrothal records
must be Ruth and in all likelihood she would have taken it north
with her when she escaped. Doctor Whistler had managed to get her
to the North; he had accomplished what he had set out to do.

Surely this was
enough to let his father approach Lord Duchesne? Charles gathered
up his notes and sped off to find his father.

“I must agree
with you. We will need Duke William Duchesne’s help,” said
Henri.

“He has men in
the North and will help once he understands the full import of the
situation,” agreed Charles.

One of Henri
Cocteau’s eyebrows rose at that. How much did his son know about
Lord Williams’ activities in the Northern Continent?

“I realise we
can’t do this on our own,” he said, turning dark eyes filled with
foreboding on his son, “but what you are suggesting could be
construed as treason, Tom Brentwood would be quick to act if he
caught but a sniff of what we are planning. Let me think.”

Charles waited
impatiently.

“I’ll talk to
Duchesne,” his father said at last, “he does keep a close eye on
both Argyll and Vadath and he has a network of well-placed agents
there.”

“Not in
Vadath,” warned Charles.

“If there are
descendants of Ruth in Argyll he will find them.”

“Are you sure
he will help?”

“He has little
love of Tom Brentwood and is not enamoured about a long regency
under him if the king dies. Tom Brentwood is Susan’s uncle and
would be the obvious Lord Regent. William Duchesne is also very
much aware of the threat of the Larg. He’s spoken to me about it.
He hasn’t just doubled his border guards but tripled them. He’s
close to the island chain to the north and feels under threat in a
big way.

Charles nodded;
this was not news to him.

Charles raised
his arms deprecatingly, “I am within the administration department
remember. Our espionage network may not be of the same standard as
Duchesne’s but we do manage to stay on top of things most of the
time, although mostly on an internal basis.”

“You are aware
that Tom Brentwood has called for a meeting of Conclave then? With
the king incapacitated with grief he states that it is up to us
dukes to keep the kingdom from strife.”

“Tom Brentwood
has called for a meeting of Conclave? asked the surprised Charles.
“I hadn’t heard that.”

“He senses his
chance. Elliot isn’t likely to thwart him, he’s only too glad not
to be bothered with affairs of state. Graham will support him,
being his nephew. Gardiner he will buy.”

“Van
Buren?”

“He can think
of little else but the deaths of his wife and children.”

“Old Sam Baker
and William Duchesne are related as well,” warned Charles.

“Son, we are
all related to each other, some might say incestuously so but Sam
Baker has little regard for Tom Brentwood, he hated his wife with a
vengeance and she was Tom Brentwood’s aunt.”

“They must not
openly oppose what Brentwood plans,” cautioned Charles, “I am not
saying that they give him their full support but they must not
oppose him in Conclave. Our kingdom must be seen to be strong and
united, the Larg must see no hint of any struggles that might
divide us.”

“I will speak
to them both, van Buren as well.”

* * * * *

“If we do find
this Ruth’s descendants and spirit them here how do we prove who we
say they are to the satisfaction of the Larg?” was William
Duchesne’s reasonable question when father and son approached him
and Duke Raoul van Buren.

It was a
problem.

It was Charles
who came up with the solution.

“The Vada duos
can have no secrets from each other, their minds are linked in some
way. If one half of their partnership is lying the other knows. Do
not some few of the Larg have a similar link with some few of our
people?”

“That’s true,”
shivered his father, “it’s not an enviable situation to find
oneself in. Does anyone know of such a person? If Charles is right,
then all we have to do is convince the human half that our
candidate is who we say he is. If we provide proof that convinces
him then the Largan will believe.”

“We must have
the true heir,” added Charles, “If we try and substitute an
impostor and fail to convince them they will consider the treaty
broken.”

“I agree,” said
sad-faced Lord Raoul van Buren, “but where do we start? It’s been a
hundred and forty years since the girl went north.”

“When you first
broached the subject Henri, I remembered something I read when I
was a boy page at Court,” began William Duchesne, “your son and I
have both been worrying about the same problem and I
think
heading in the same direction.” He looked into the distance,
marshalling his thoughts, “when the original Lord of Duchesne,
Pierre I think his name was, took his people to the North to escape
the wrath of the then Lord Baker, he went to Vadath and most of his
people went with him. From what I have been able to find out, a
small group of them did not like what they found there, they were
uncomfortable living amongst the Lind so they came home. Lord
Regent Baker, had put his son into the Lordship meantime and he
took them back in - he probably needed the manpower.”

“I can well
understand that if the Lind are anything like the Larg,” said
Henri.

“Let me finish,
as I said, some of them returned south. I have managed to get my
hands on an account one of the men wrote of his experiences.”

He pushed a
yellowing piece of parchment towards them.

“This is
it.”

“What does it
say? Is there a hint about Ruth in it?”

“I’ll read out
the relevant bit;
‘We had been in Vadath for six years when a
small boat arrived from the South. In it were five people, two of
whom were female. There was something furtive and secretive about
this boat but I couldn’t find out what it was.’
The dates
agree. Pierre Duchesne left in year ten and Princess Ruth you tell
me vanished six years later.”

“It fits,”
mused Charles, “but what makes you so sure one of the females in
the boat was Ruth?”

“This part;
‘One of the girls was taken north carried by the Lind, it is
said, to her sister.’
I have to admit that as a lad this
intrigued me so I looked into it. You won’t know this as I er … I
er, extracted the relevant sheets from the archive shelves and took
them away. Elliot the First and his sister Ruth had at least one
older sister and perhaps brothers. What is not general knowledge is
that the then Lord Sam Baker, who was regent to the first Elliot,
was his wife’s third husband. She was originally married to the
Captain of the spaceship that brought our ancestors here. His name
was Peter Howard. Any older siblings vanished in the early days, at
least there is no mention of them.”

“You think this
parchment says that Ruth was sent to live with this sister? That
one of the children, daughters, of Peter Howard lived in the
North?”

“Yes I do.
Believe it or not, I also know the name of the sister. I didn’t
understand it when I was a boy, it was an unfathomable mystery but
now it’s coming together. I don’t like mysteries, I never did. Some
years ago I set one of my men on to it. He managed to find out that
the sister’s name was Jessica Howard and she married a man called
Gerry Russell. That is our start point.”

“What must we
do?” asked van Buren.

“Time is of the
essence, if King Elliot should die and Susan too we will all be in
deep shit. I will set one of my best agents to work. He will search
out the records pertaining to this Jessica Howard. It will, alas,
take time and time is the very thing we might not have.” He turned
to Charles, “what is our esteemed Duke of Baker doing?” Like
Charles’s father, William Duchesne perceived of Sam Baker as a very
real threat to the stability of the kingdom.

“Strangely,”
answered Charles, after a quick look at his father who gave him the
nod to go ahead with this revelation, “he appears to be remarkably
unperturbed about it all. He must realise that if Susan should die
we are all in dire straits.”

“You think he
intends to put the King’s sister Princess Anne on the throne?”
asked William Duchesne.

“She is a nun,”
protested Raoul van Buren.

“She is of the
blood,” corrected Charles, “whilst she lives the bloodline still
holds the country. The Larg may be vicious brutes but they have
never once violated the treaty.”

“He is
planning,” meditated Henri Cocteau.

“To put her on
the throne if Susan dies?” asked an incredulous Raoul van
Buren.

“You must admit
that it would be an admissible stopgap measure,” replied Henri
Cocteau, “she can’t bear children, true, but it would buy us some
time.”

“I say we find
the descendants now before Baker sets his plans in motion.”

“I repeat, he
is remarkably unperturbed, in fact, I have some suspicions,” said
Charles.

“When I spoke
to Sam,” said Raoul, “he told me not to worry. He did say something
about the king’s sister.”

“That was a
‘red herring’ My Lord,” said Charles.

“A red
herring?”

“An old
saying,” answered Charles with a grin, “I picked it up recently.
It’s a sort of literary device that leads readers towards a false
answer.”

“And why this
‘red herring’?”

“I believe that
the Duke of Baker has a candidate of his own, in all likelihood one
of King Elliot the Third’s by-blows. Not all were massacred in
AL108.”

Raoul van Buren
shook his head, “I think you are wrong. None escaped the
sword.”

“No-one alive
escaped the sword,” Charles corrected him, “but what about an
unborn child?”